When Fantasy Becomes Reality
by alreynolds13
Summary: Lindsay runs into her old high school teacher at a bar, and finally gets to make her teenage fantasy a reality.


Pulling into the small parking lot, Lindsay glanced in her rearview mirror. She ran a hand through her long, dark hair, and checked to make sure that her makeup was still in place. The dark eye liner eye highlighted her bright blue eyes, causing them to appear almost luminescent in the moonlight.

Getting out of the car, she pulled down the edge of her thigh-length, dark purple sundress. The fabric fit to her curves nicely, while still being lightweight and cool enough to make the humid summer air bearable.

In all honesty, she didn't know why she was here. Not here as in the town, but here as in the bar.

She had come back to her hometown for a family reunion, which had been earlier that day. Truth be told, she would've rather made up some excuse to get out of the event, since driving hours just to wear a fake smile and fend off questions about why she wasn't married yet wasn't exactly her idea of a fun Saturday afternoon. But, her family had insisted, and successfully used guilt tactics by saying that it had been years since she had come to visit, so here she was. Hopefully, this appeased them for at least another couple years.

She had finally been able to get away from the gathering when the sun started setting, the men off on their own drinking beer and talking sports, while the women drank wine coolers and watched the children. She had feigned a headache, and, thankfully, they hadn't complained too much at her early departure. She had meant to drive straight back to her hotel room, and curl up in bed with some greasy takeout food and cheesy reality TV, when she saw the light-up sign for the bar.

God, she hadn't been there in forever. She used to spend almost every Saturday night during the summer at that bar, while she was on break from college and stuck back in this small hometown where nothing exciting happened. The rush of nostalgia caused her to slow down and pull into the parking lot before she even realized she was doing so.

 _What the hell,_ she thought. _Might as well have a drink, for old time's sake._

Opening the door, she smiled at the familiar scene. Nothing had changed. It looked exactly as it had years ago, with the same chipped paint and sports memorabilia on the walls. It was pretty early in the evening, so there were only a couple occupied tables, which Lindsay bypassed in favor of heading across the large room and straight for the bar.

She made it halfway there when she saw froze in shock. _He_ was here.

Her mouth ran dry at the sight of her high school English teacher, Mr. Negan, sitting on one of the bar stools and cradling a glass of dark liquid. He was turned at an angle away from her, giving her the opportunity to scan up and down his profile. She bet, from the way he was dressed, that he had stayed late at the school, grading papers, before stopping by for a drink on his way home.

He had on dark slacks that were well-tailored to his long, lean form. If he had worn a jacket earlier in the day, it was gone now, leaving him in a white dress shirt with the sleeves uncuffed and rolled up to show off his strong, tan forearms. He had undone the first two buttons down the front, giving a teasing glimpse of his dark chest hair, which made a tingle of excitement go down Lindsay's spine.

She finally tore her eyes away from his body in favor of taking in his face: the salt and pepper hair, masculine features, and five o'clock stubble that surrounded a mouth that was made to do nasty things in the dark. Or in the light. Hell, she'd let that mouth do whatever it wanted, whenever and wherever it wanted.

He had been smoking hot back when he was her teacher, and he was _still_ smoking hot, but in a totally different manner. Teenage her had seen him as unattainable and untouchable. He had been an adult, a _real_ man, while she had still been navigating her own identity and felt like a child being forced to walk around in a young woman's body.

But now, the years had given her confidence, as well as experience. And Mr. Negan was no longer as unattainable as he had been in the past…or at least she hoped he wasn't.

Finally unfreezing herself, she continued towards the bar, putting on an extra sway of her hips, to help put herself in a seductive mood. She might have come in this bar just for a quick drink and small dose of nostalgia, but she planned on leaving it with a quick fuck and a large dose of Mr. Negan's cock.

Setting her purse on the bar, she slid onto the stool to Mr. Negan's left. Hoping that she didn't look as desperately obvious as she felt, she put on her best playful smile and turned to him.

He had glanced over at her as she sat down, and it took only a couple of seconds before she saw recognition light up his eyes.

"I'll be damned! How are ya, Lindsay?"

Forcing back a shudder at the sound of her name rolling off his tongue in that gravelly voice, her smile became more genuine at the fact that he had recognized her so quickly, and also remembered her name. She hadn't seen him since graduation, so the fact that her identity had stuck in a corner of his memory made her even more hopeful for the path this evening could take.

They spent the next twenty minutes playing catch up. Mr. Negan learned about Lindsay's current career, where she was living, and that she was back in town for a family reunion. And Lindsay learned that Mr. Negan was still trying to pound sentence structure and a love for _Lord of the_ _Flies_ into unwilling teenagers. She also learned that he was single, thank god, and made sure to give hints that she was, as well.

While they talked, she moved closer to him, practically balancing on the edge of her stool. She hadn't missed the way his eyes darted down to her bare legs every time she crossed and uncrossed her thighs, or the way he stared at her lips each time they wrapped around the bottle of beer she had ordered. In fact, she was pretty sure that this was going to be even easier than she had initially anticipated. Now, it was time to start taking things up a few notches, and see how far they could go.

She coyly lifted her crossed leg out a few inches, so that her ankle rested firmly against his calf. She felt him tense slightly, but he didn't comment on it…nor did he move away. Instead, he looked up at her curiously, as if trying to decipher if the move had been intentional. She gave a smirk back, a silent confirmation that, yes, she had done it on purpose.

When she had finished her drink, he offered to buy her another, but she declined. Instead, she reached over and plucked his glass off the bar top, and he watched silently as she turned the glass around and brought it to her mouth, so that her lips took a drink from the exact same spot on the rim where his own lips had been. She maintained eye contact with him the entire time, setting the glass back down in front of him, before commenting, "I should've guessed that you'd be a top-shelf, bourbon man."

He gave a deep chuckle at that, before huskily replying, "What can I say, I enjoy the finer things in life."

The glint in his eye made Lindsay think that he wasn't just talking about alcohol, and this thought was confirmed when she felt a warm, rough hand land on her bare knee. Giving a small gasp, she looked down and watched, mesmerized, as he rubbed his thumb in a circular pattern along the side of her knee, his large palm looking so masculine in contrast to her soft skin and feminine dress. Just that one, light touch was making her wet, and she wondered how soaked she would be by the time he got his hands on more intimate parts of her body.

Deciding that the time for games was over, she leaned forward, until she could whisper in his ear, "Why don't we get out of here, sir?"

He gave what sounded like a low growl, tightening his hand on her knee before letting go. Reaching for his wallet, he threw some bills on the bar before standing up and grabbing her hand. He led her across the bar, not caring who saw, and the next thing Lindsay knew, they were outside, the rush of humid night air automatically causing sweat to bead on the back of her neck.

Hand still in his, she let him lead her past her car and towards his own vehicle, a sleek black Chevy that was an upgrade from the beat-up truck she had remembered him driving in the past.

He opened the passenger door for her, then shut it once she was tucked inside. She blew out a soft breath to try and calm her nerves, wondering if this was actually a dream and she should pinch herself, as he strode around the front of the car and got in. He turned on the engine, then reached down in the console, fishing out a pack of cigarettes and a lighter. Lindsay watched as he lit up one of the cigarettes and took a long drag, as if he also was trying to calm himself. The thought caused her to smile softly.

"You sure about this?" he asked suddenly, making her jump.

Deciding to lay all her cards on the table, she replied steadily, "I've been wanting to fuck you since I was 15 years old. Trust me, I'm sure."

Even in the dim glow of the moonlight, she saw him jerk, as if she had slapped him. He turned and peered at her, as if seeing her in a whole new light.

"Jesus," he whispered, reaching down to put the car in drive. "Jesus fucking Christ."

Barely stifling a giggle, she didn't hesitate when he held out the cigarette, her fingers brushing against his as she took it and brought it up to her own lips. There was a faint taste of bourbon underneath the tobacco, and she gave a deep inhale before softly blowing the smoke back out.

Except for his hand on her thigh, stroking the bare skin exposed by the short hemline of the dress, and the long drags she took of the cigarette, the rest of the car ride was a blur. In what could've been 5 minutes or an hour, they were pulling up outside his house.

Ever the gentleman, he came around and opened her door, offering a hand to help her get out. She dropped the cigarette to the pavement, crushing it with her heel, before she followed him across the sidewalk and up the stairs to his front door.

While he had been courteous and gentlemanly at the bar, and even in the car, those rules no longer applied once they were inside his house. It was as if he had shed a layer of skin, had thrown off the persona he showcased out in public, and was only now reacting in the way he truly desired.

As soon as the front door closed behind them, Mr. Negan pushed her up against the nearest wall, his mouth colliding with hers. She moaned at the taste of bourbon and cigarette and _him._ She bit at his lower lip playfully, causing him to groan, and she gave a gasp when he shoved her harder into the wall. His tongue slid past her open lips, and her head spun as she felt his hands move down between them. It wasn't until he broke off the kiss that she realized he had undone the row of buttons down his front and was taking off his shirt.

Lindsay only caught a quick look at his muscular chest before he wrapped his fingers around her wrist and turned, practically dragging her down the hall to his bedroom. She caught a glimpse of multiple tattoos on his arms, and one on his shoulder, but the only lighting was the soft glow of a few table lamps, so she couldn't properly see what they all were. Course, she also kept getting distracted by the play of muscles across his back as he walked ahead of her, and how damn good his ass looked in those fitted slacks.

When they reached his bedroom, he led her to the foot of the bed before releasing her wrist. He took a step back, to create the illusion of distance, his eyes locked onto hers. She still couldn't believe this was happening, that she was about to fuck Mr. Negan. But here they were, and there was no way in hell she was turning back now.

"Take it off," he demanded, nodding at her dress, his voice causing Lindsay's knees to tremble with both nerves and excitement.

"Yes, sir," she steadily replied.

She ducked her head, attempting to hide her smirk at the husky groan he gave in response to her words. Reaching down, she grabbed the bottom edge of the dress and lifted her arms up over her head, successfully removing the garment in one continuous motion.

The dress had barely floated down to the floor before he was upon her, pushing her back onto the large bed and leaning down to cover her body with his own. His mouth claimed hers once again, and she grasped at his bare shoulders, whimpering at the feel of him against her, and wishing that the rest of their clothes would magically disappear.

Apparently, he was thinking the same thing, because he broke the kiss and stood back up to finish undressing. Lindsay watched as he kicked off his shoes and socks, hands reaching down for the button on his slacks.

Pushing up on her knees on bed, she stopped him with a hand on his wrist. He looked at her in surprise, and she wondered if he thought she was going to put an end to this.

Instead, she licked her lips, and rasped, "Let me do that…please."

He considered her for a second, and she swore she saw visible relief cross his features at her eagerness to continue, before he gave a nod and dropped his hand to his side. Moving forward a few inches, she knelt on the bed in front of him and began to undo his pants.

God, she had imagined doing this very thing more times than she could count. And now, the fantasy was coming true.

She lowered the zipper and then tucked her fingers into the waistband, tugging the fabric downwards. She could see his erection straining against the fabric of his black boxer briefs, and her mouth watered at the sight. Not even waiting until he had the pants off the whole way, she reached inside the boxer briefs, and took out his hard cock.

It was even better than she had imagined. Thick and hard, with a vein running down the side. Teenage Lindsay would've had a stroke at the sight, but adult Lindsay was practically drooling at the possibilities that such a cock offered.

Without hesitation, and before he could stop her, she tightened her hand around the base and leaned forward, taking the head into her mouth. Much as she wanted him inside her, there was no way she was going to pass up the chance to taste Mr. Negan's cock.

She expected him to push her away, but instead, he slid his fingers through her long, dark hair, before tightening them into a fist against her scalp, effectively putting himself in control of the situation. He pulled her forward, forcing her to swallow more of his cock, to the point where she gave a slight gag and her eyes began to water. But he didn't let up, or let her pull back to breathe. He just held her there, his pubic hair tickling her nose and his cock down her throat. After a few seconds, Lindsay's muscles started to relax, as her body gave the control completely over to him.

He must've felt her submission, because he slid his other hand underneath to cup her chin gently, and purred, "Good girl."

It was only then that he released his grip, allowing her to pull back. She gave a gasp and coughed as her lungs filled back up with air…

And then Lindsay looked up and saw the look in his eyes, and promptly lost her breath all over again.

He was staring down at her with a predatory hunger that was unlike any other gaze that had ever been fixed on her, by anyone in her past. And he sure as hell had never looked at her like this when she was his student. As if he were a starving man who had just been placed in front of a 5-star buffet. His eyes almost glowed with primal desire, never breaking contact with her own. Lindsay shivered as he tore his pants and boxer briefs off the rest of the way, then crawled onto the bed. He pushed her onto her back, practically stalking up the mattress towards her, his cock heavy and swaying between his thighs.

While he was now fully naked, she still had on her bra and panties…but not for long.

As if reading her thoughts, he reached for the waistband of the delicate fabric, pulling the panties down her legs, while she reached behind her back to unclasp the bra. Lindsay had pulled it down her arms and tossed it over the side of the bed by the time he did the same with the panties, so when he looked back up, he froze at the sight of her, completely bare before him.

He moved further up the mattress, until he was hovering directly over her, his hands braced on either side of her waist. Lindsay had instinctively parted her legs to make room for him, and gasped as he pushed them open even wider, so that his hips were flush with hers, and his cock was pressed against her inner thigh.

She took in a deep breath through her nose, taking in his unique smell of leather, bourbon, and spicy cologne, with an underlying hint of smoke.

She felt his cock nudge at her folds, and lifted her hips with a whimper, wordlessly begging him to come inside. Instead, he rubbed his length back and forth between her lips, the head nudging her clit in a way that made her writhe underneath him, nails digging into his biceps.

"Lemme here you beg for it, sweetheart," he growled.

Not even caring if she sounded desperate, Lindsay gave a whine, and willingly begged.

"Please, fuck me, sir. I want it…I've wanted it for so long. _Please_."

Groaning, he suddenly thrust forward, hard enough that he slid the whole way inside her in one go. Lindsay cried out at the sensation, his girth stretching her to the brink, stuffing her so full that she could hardly breathe.

They stayed locked that for a few long seconds, as Lindsay's body adjusted to him and she struggled to draw in air.

Just when she was starting to feel a bit more in control of herself, he started to move. Her legs instinctively came up to wrap around his waist as he withdrew, trying to prevent him from leaving. But he wasn't gone for long, slamming back into her hard enough that she was pushed slightly up the mattress from the force of it.

He set up a fast and brutal rhythm, the pleasurable sensations bordering on the brink of pain, which somehow turned her on even more. He ducked his head down to her left breast, laving her nipple with a hot tongue before taking it between his teeth and giving a sharp nip. She cried out, burying her fingers in his thick hair and holding him against her skin, as he switched over to give her right breast the same treatment.

Lifting his head, he looked down at her, drops of sweat running down his neck as he grunted with each thrust. She stared back, entranced by the sight of him above her, of his muscles flexing as he fucked her up the mattress, causing her to brace a hand against the headboard to keep from banging into it.

"Is this what you fucking imagined, while sitting in my class," he growled.

She gave a throaty moan at his words, nodding in response.

"Tell me," he demanded. "Tell me how you fantasized about fucking your teacher."

"Yes," she gasped. "God, yes. I thought about it all the time. I wanted you to fuck me right there on your desk, in front of everyone…" She broke off with a cry as she felt his hand slid down over her mound, his rough fingertips zeroing in on her clit and rubbing in rapid circles.

"You dirty girl," he moaned. "You dirty fucking girl."

Lindsay was unable to form coherent sentences at this point, instead responding with whimpers and moans and quick jerks of her body underneath his. His fingers on her clit were quickly driving her up to the edge, and she tried to fight it, tried to hold back as long as she could. But he was having none of that.

"Fucking come, Lindsay. Do it."

That was all it took. His growled words, combined with the sensations of his fingers and cock, send her flying into the most intense orgasm of her life. Her mouth opened on a silent scream as shockwaves of pleasure coursed through her body, causing her to dig her nails into his shoulders so hard that she drew blood.

"Jesus fuck," he groaned, gritting his teeth and staring down at her in awe, as she jerked and shuddered, her walls clenching around him.

His hips continued to slam into hers, and she knew that there would be bruises come tomorrow, but she welcomed them. She wanted as many reminders of tonight as she could get. Soon, she felt his hips falter, and she could tell by the flush that was covering his face and chest, that he was close.

She was just coming down off her own orgasm, when he hit his. The groan that burst from his lips caused her to quake underneath him, then gasp as she felt the hot ropes of his cum release inside her. His eyes were closed and mouth parted as he rode out the pleasure, and she watched greedily as he trembled and jerked above her, before he rolled to the side and collapsed on the bed beside her.

They laid there in silence for a few minutes, both of them staring up at the ceiling, the only sound in the room the huff and puff of their breathing. Then, once their heartbeats had settled down and the sweat was starting to dry on their skin, he turned over onto his side, propping his head up on one hand, and looking up and down Lindsay's naked body. She flushed, then realized how ridiculous it was to feel embarrassed _now,_ after what they had just done.

"So, now that you finally got to fuck your teacher, what's next on your bucket list."

Giving a slow smile, Lindsay reached out and trailed a fingertip down the middle of his chest. "Well, I got to fuck my teacher in a _bed._ But that's just one of the many places that I imagined fucking you, sir. In fact, if we try real hard, we might be able to cross most of my teenage fantasies off the bucket list while I'm in town. Whataya say?"

Giving a chuckle, Mr. Negan rolled onto his back, pulling a laughing Lindsay onto his chest as he replied, "Sounds like a perfect fucking plan to me."


End file.
